What Makes a Family
by Special Agent Snuggles
Summary: "I can explain." But the silence grew, until, as if in a slow motion double take, Splinter realized the aforementioned explanation wasn't going to come. Splinter let his gaze drop from the ceiling, but his next words died as their eyes met. Donatello, eyes wide, looked as though he was trapped, uncomfortable and unhappy. And in pain. - When Donnie is injured, a secret comes out.
1. Conflicted

Author's Note: My first try in this fandom, yay! I hope you enjoy! (By the way, I-do-not-own-TMNT *cough*) Dialogue is light through the first half of this chapter, but things pick up after that. Donnie does get injured, but I try to keep the gross-out factor minimal.

* * *

**What Makes a Family**

**Part One**

* * *

Between the five of them, April had the most cloth to spare, during their panicked trip back to the lair. She didn't hesitate; her shirt came off, and was now serving as a tourniquet.

Now in a sports bra, she sat on the floor of the Shell Raiser, Donnie's head cradled in her lap, as she did her best to apply pressure to the wound in his shoulder.

The shirt was already soaked through, and Donatello's breathing was growing more labored by the moment.

"Yeah. Five minutes, Sensei. Right. I will." Raph was on the phone, bringing Splinter up to speed. Leo and Mikey were both focused on getting home as fast as possible, and for once, even Mikey wasn't making jokes. They couldn't afford a wrong turn.

Raph silently dropped down next to April, and placed a hand over one of hers. She let him take over, moving to cup Donnie's face instead, mixing the sweat on his cheeks with blood.

"Donnie. Don." Raph's voice was unusually soft, but insistent as he leaned over him, pressing into the wound. "We need to know what to do when we get back. Sensei says you'll need blood- a transfusion. He remembers you had a plan, in case something like this happened..." His voice cracked slightly, and Raph scowled deeply, briefly furious. Then he leaned further forward, an intense focus laced with suppressed panic settling over his face. Helpless fury at the situation, after all, would not help Donnie.

April watched silently as Raphael worked to coax answers from his wounded brother, her hands gently massaging Donnie's temples, her own face hard. She couldn't cry right now, although there was a ball of pure dread deep in her gut, trying to claw its way into her throat. The adrenaline, and the urgent need to be useful, _now_, kept the panic at bay. They all needed to focus. They _all_ needed to be at 110% for Donnie.

April felt Donnie's throat working, just before he found his voice. It came out as a croak, but he was still mostly intelligible.

"T-trans...fus...ion." He breathed in and out a few times, rasping. "Sensei...Sensei..." Then April saw something there, in his eyes, and for just an instant his gaze locked with hers.

Regret. Hesitance. For just that instant, it overshadowed the pain.

"Yeah, Donnie? Keep going..." Raph's voice was gritty, but gentle, fear laced through every word. He was panting lightly, staring hard as if he might absorb Donnie's instructions via telepathy.

Donatello's brow creased, then his face relaxed a little, as if some inner struggle had briefly taken place, and been resolved.

"Only...only Splinter...can help. His blood..." He gasped, face briefly filled with the stark lines of agony radiating from the hole in his shoulder.

A bullet had passed straight through it, only a hair's breadth from the edge of his plastron, taking a chunk of tissue with it. And it had likely at least grazed one of the more important arteries.

That was according to Donnie, anyway, when he was still able to talk rapid fire. It must've been only minutes earlier that night, but to April it felt like hours had already passed. She could picture Donnie, in perfect clarity, as he had stood there, moments after the echo of the gun shot stopped ricocheting around the alleyway, the Purple Dragon responsible for the damage already out cold on the concrete. Donnie's hand had pressed to the wound, and he'd watched as the blood pulsed through his fingers, commenting on the nature of the wound, before his body and mind started going into shock. Before, moments later, he collapsed to his knees, and April, using all her strength, just barely managed to stop him from face planting into the ground.

"Okay! So Sensei can give you a transfusion. Is that what you mean, Donnie? That Sensei's blood will work?" Raph still stared, eye wide, intent on not screwing this up.

Donatello nodded twice, eyes closed, face still a mask of pain. "Only Sensei's blood..."

April hoped that wouldn't be a problem. Splinter, aside from Donnie himself, was the most skilled at first aid, and the only one who could administer the blood transfusion. They all knew the basics, even April now, but this was a delicate business. April knew you could die if oxygen were introduced to the blood at any point.

"Don, is there anything else? You're gonna need stitches, I know Sensei has that covered, I-I think..." Raph's face grew rigid as his brother's face grew slack for a moment. "Don...hey, stay _with_ me bro..."

April's eyes widened as she thought of something. "Antibiotics! Donnie." April caressed his temples, applying a little more pressure, to help with coaxing him back to awareness. "Donnie! Medicine, is there medicine in the lab we should give you?"

It was a struggle, but when the Shell Raiser came to a stop a few minutes later, April and Raph had confirmed where to look to locate Donnie's medicine kit, and which jar inside contained the correct pills to prevent infection, and the dosage to use.

No one voiced the worry that, if anything went wrong, they wouldn't be needed.

* * *

They all stood around the table where Donatello now lay, watching as Splinter worked to place a catheter into Donatello's arm. Mikey was holding Donnie's hand, despite the fact that his brother had passed out minutes back.

Leo spoke. "Who's going to give him blood?"

"I will!" Michelangelo piped up instantly, eyes glued to his brother's clammy face, which was pulled down into a frown of pain even while unconscious. He thrust out an arm. "I'm not afraid of a little needle, hook me up Sens..."

"It needs to be Master Splinter. Donnie said." Raph spoke over him, eyes also glued to Donnie's unconscious form. "He was really clear on that, Mikey."

Splinter paused, his eyes briefly wide. One second passed. Then he nodded, accepting Raphael's words, and continued working.

Before long, the flow of life-giving liquid was making its way into Donatello's body, and Splinter moved immediately on to the process of cleaning and stitching the wound as best he could. To keep the transfusion going, he had placed his own catheter on the outside of his arm, rather than placing it on the inner elbow, so that he could move with more freedom. Even so, Leo stayed close by, hand hovering to be sure the connection and flow was never disturbed.

Raph and Mikey stayed near, while being careful to keep out of the way. It was April, meanwhile, who made sure Splinter had everything he needed as he worked, a helper to him as she often was to Donnie. They found the bullet lodged on the inside of Donatello's shell, gore spattered around it, as the shell had caught nearly everything coming out from the exit point. It was gruesome, but a blessing, because it meant the bullet hadn't ricocheted internally.

Nearly two grueling hours later, and the stitches were in place. Donnie's pulse was steady, his temperature only slightly lower than normal. His breathing was even, if shallow. About thirty minutes into the surgery, he had woken once, briefly, only to pass out again moments later. Even that brief interlude had been nightmarish, the sounds he'd made horrifying, the stitches already in place pulled partially out as he'd moved suddenly. Even now, a scowl of pain pulled the curve of his mouth down, and a slight crease was on his brow. But the the most dangerous part was done.

Leo, Raph, and Mikey, taking incredible care, worked together to move Donnie to his bedroom, where he could sleep more comfortably. Leo volunteered to watch over him first, and wasted no time settling into the only chair the room contained, pulling it up to Donnie's bed. He sat, then lifted his legs up and gently weaved his feet under one of Donnie's calves, maintaining a physical connection.

With a promise to return in a few hours, Splinter left the room first, followed slowly by the others. Raph lingered the longest, and made a point of pushing the door wider open.

In his straight forward way, he gave Leonardo an unblinking promise that managed to sound, to someone who didn't know him, like a veiled threat.

"Call if you need us." Leo nodded his own promise, and Raphael turned to leave.

* * *

When Raphael entered the kitchen a few minutes later, April and Mikey both sat at the table already, as Master Splinter made himself a cup of tea and a snack of crackers and cheese, to replenish his blood after sharing so much of it with Donatello.

Mikey's expression was unfocused, his eyes vaguely following Splinter's movements, more asleep than awake. April was staring down at her hands, a somber expression on her face. Her pale complexion betrayed her exhaustion more clearly, by painting dark rings under her eyes, something which was much harder to spot in Raphael and his brothers.

Their sensei was also harder to judge, but as Raph slumped into a chair at the table, he could see the signs. There was a very subtle tremor in the mutant rat's hands, as he stirred his tea. The angle of his head and shoulders was another clue.

Mikey sighed loudly, waking up a little. As if in response, Splinter turned to the teenagers.

"You should all rest. Donatello will require care for many days to come, and the opportunity for our own recuperation shouldn't be missed." He blinked, focusing on them individually, and his voice softened. "You did well tonight, my sons. April, thank you for your assistance, I am grateful to you."

"Of course, Sensei." April smiled, the look meant to reassure. But the gesture, perhaps because it felt so wrong after the terrifying events of that night, fell quickly away. She stared down at her hands again, clenching them together, shoulders starting to tremble.

Mikey reached out a comforting hand, rubbing April's back, a little taken aback as silent tears started a path down her cheeks. April was a tough girl, and Mikey was hard put to think of the last time he'd seen her cry. And besides, if she kept crying, he might end up joining her.

He struggled against his fatigue, in order to comfort her. "S'okay, April. Donnie's gonna be okay. You- you were awesome toni..."

"I was _in the way._" April bit her lower lip, hard, and her shoulders shook even harder.

No one spoke for several seconds.

Mikey started again, tentatively. "April..."

"No. I was trying so hard to b-be a kunoichi, to be part of the _team_." Her voice turned harsh, derogatory, as it lingered on that last word. "I pushed, and pushed, and pushed to be included, and- and I was in the way. Donnie _wouldn't_ have been..."

She put a hand over her mouth, shoulders heaving, and closed her eyes, trying to muffle her own cries. Mikey, desperate to make April feel better, pulled her toward him, and she finally returned the hug, throwing her arms around him.

"It's okay...it's okay, April." With wide eyes, Mikey looked over to Raph, who could only shrug his shoulders. As much as he didn't want to admit it out loud right now, Raphael had to agree with April on this.

But, as he watched her cry into his brother's shoulder, tears now forming in Mikey's eyes too, Raph knew that wasn't fair. Donnie himself had been eager to include April, had done his best to be her crutch whenever she needed one. When the leap was too long between buildings for her to manage, or when she wasn't fast or strong, or heck, simply skilled enough to pull her own weight in a fight, Donnie was always there first. And they all wanted to include her, as much as they could. Even Sensei had agreed she could come on the patrols sometimes. Since he had given his go ahead, April couldn't be held solely accountable for what happened tonight. And besides, Raphael knew one thing for sure.

"Donnie...he _isn't_ gonna blame you for this, April. And neither do we." He shook his head, crossing his arms as he thought about the fight earlier that night. "That low life...I mean, come on, he had a gun squirreled away in a freakin' _ankle_ holster! Most times somebody might have a knife there, but a second gun? You didn't see that coming, and neither did Donnie. Okay? So..." He dropped off, uncertain, as April shook her head against Mikey's shoulder, still in tears.

"No, Raph. H-he was d-distracted. Donnie chose to take out the guy behind _me_ first, because I didn't see him, and _don't_ tell me I wouldn't have gotten hurt, because yes I _would_ have, f-for the nth time, if one of you guys hadn't stepped in _again_."

A moment went by, during which Raphael attempted and failed to think of something to say. Then April gently pulled away from Mikey, still sniffling back tears, shoulders still trembling.

She stood and turned to face Splinter, eyes to the ground, and gave their sensei a proper bow from the waist. She spoke to the ground, as Raphael and Mikey, still sitting, both stared at her.

"Sensei, I'm sorry. I put your sons in danger because of my i-impatience. I...I've been _honored_ to be allowed to train as your student, but..."

"Miss O'Neil." When she remained bowing, Splinter stepped forward, touching her shoulder gently. "Please look at me." When she had straightened up, face miserable, he continued.

"Any blame, if it must be assigned, lies with me." Splinter lowered his chin slightly, his eyes focusing more intently on April, voice growing firm when she made a motion to interrupt. "As your sensei, I chose to allow you to accompany my sons to the surface. You are correct; they do go above and beyond to protect you. They do so because they love you...and they recognize that this fight, with the Krang and with the Foot, found you. You did not _seek_ it. But, when confronted, you chose to face your enemies head on." He paused, and squeezed her shoulder slightly. "Because of your unique situation, I decided that an accelerated approach to the practicalities of fighting was appropriate. That is why I've allowed you to sometimes accompany my sons during their patrols."

Splinter sighed, a silent movement rather than an audible exhalation of the breath. "I trust that, in the future, you will carefully judge the situation before leaping into a potential fight alongside my sons. And we can discuss in detail exactly what went wrong tonight, during your training." His voice softened. "You are an incredibly brave person, April, and one day you will make an _exceptional_ kunoichi. Yes?"

April nodded her head, a bow in miniature. Her eyes were still bright with unshed tears, and guilt warred with gratitude there. "Yes, Sensei."

Given the events of the evening, Splinter knew it would take time for the shock waves running through his family's emotional and physical bodies to subside. Given that, April's response was positive. With a nod, he returned to the kitchen counter to eat his snack, and attempt to take some rest before returning to his son's side.

* * *

Donatello woke in stages. He was first aware of the throbbing in his fingertips, like an echo, which then led to something deeper, embedded in the right side of his chest. The pain there throbbed also, but much more intensely.

He struggled to force heavy eye lids up, as he became aware of his other appendages, and the way his head was resting on something soft; the smell of the space, the sounds. He gasped lightly, tensing as he finally came fully awake, and his eyes opened as a familiar hand came to rest on his uninjured shoulder.

"Donatello, my son. You are safe."

Donnie allowed himself to relax again, eyes resting on his sensei's concerned face. "Hi Sensei." His voice was thin, but held a hint of humor, and Splinter smiled.

The double meaning wasn't lost, as Donatello, out of all his sons, was particularly fond of puns, and Hai, in Japanese, meant yes.

"Here, I have water..." Before long, Splinter had successfully helped his son carefully drink down an antibiotic, a pain killer, and a full glass of water.

Splinter knew he should go get the others, but, at nearly twelve hours after first hearing of the attack, he was truly exhausted. Sitting and watching his still breathing child was too tempting, at least for a few more minutes.

He found himself looking over the wound, hoping once again that he had done a good enough job. He also found himself marveling at how much Donatello himself had done in advance to prevent this from turning into a true tragedy.

He grasped his son's hand, comforted by the warmth he felt in it. "It is lucky, that I could provide my blood. You had lost so much of it."

Donatello's hand tensed slightly under his, making Splinter immediately intent. "Are you in pain?"

"No...well, yes. The pain killer should start taking effect soon, Sensei." Donatello's eyes were the only thing to follow him, and Splinter could tell he was already growing tired again.

"Good." Now surely wasn't the time, but Splinter was reminded that he had been singled out as the only viable donor, and a question had formed.

"Donatello, am I correct that you four cannot serve as donors to one another, should the need arise?"

Donatello blinked once, taking in the question, and Splinter was sure, if it weren't for the blood loss, that his cheeks would have colored as he looked sheepishly away.

"Ah...not quite, Sensei."

Splinter sat quietly, absorbing the unexpected answer. A moment later, Donatello's eyes darted toward him, as if trying to catch a quick look without getting caught, and flicked away again, nervous.

"The..." Donatello swallowed, and tried to reassure his sensei. "The others can serve as donors to each other, however, and I can give you blood in a pinch. So, all our bases are covered."

Splinter moved to pull gently on his beard in a repetitive motion, one, two, three times. Then he paused, shifting his gaze toward the ceiling. "I admit, I do not understand how this makes sense, but I am no geneticist." Splinter left the comment open, inviting Donatello to explain further. Something was urging him to be tread carefully, and yet...the voice of caution in his mind was weaker than the curiosity which prompted him forward.

As expected, Donatello quickly answered. "I can explain."

But then he didn't. The silence grew, until, as if in a slow motion double take, Splinter finally realized the aforementioned explanation wasn't going to come. Splinter let his gaze drop from the ceiling, but his next words died as their eyes met.

Donatello, eyes wide, looked as though he was trapped, uncomfortable and unhappy. And in pain.

Splinter shook his head, innerly chastising himself. "It can wait. Do not concern yourself about it right now, my son. Let me fetch you more water. And the others will want to know you've woken."

Splinter retrieved the glass from Donatello's desk, and with a gentle nod, left the bedroom. In his mind's eye, though, the wide eyes of his son, looking so conflicted, stayed with him.

* * *

A few days went by, before the subject of their prior conversation was picked back up, albeit in an unexpected way. Donatello was resting on the couch in the living area, where he had spent the majority of his time lately, and Leo sat on the beanie bag.

"It's fortunate that you were here, Dr. Mindstrong, or Crankshaw's lifeless body would surely be jettisoning into space as we speak!" Captain Ryan spoke, as Leo would put it, in his typically heroic way, hands on his hips.

On the television set, Dr. Mindstrong raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "Indeed."

Ensign Crankshaw, who lay on a sickbed while the other two stood, raised an eyebrow as well, echoing Dr. Mindstrong's expression. "Indeed."

Dr. Mindstrong's eyebrow went up slightly higher. He steepled his fingers contemplatively.

Captain Ryan rolled his eyes. "Dr. Mindstrong, how long will Crankshaw be like this?"

"A few days only, Captain, and the effect will have worn off. I may be a universal donor for all of humanity, but this is the price."

Captain Ryan looked glum, eyes narrowed in a scowl. "I suppose it was a...necessary price to pay. A necessary...evil."

Crankshaw piped up again, still looking thoughtful. "Indeed."

As Captain Ryan tried to slap sense into the ensign, despite his grievous injuries, Leonardo turned away from the show.

"Hey Donnie, that reminds me! I've been meaning to ask you for a run down of who can be a donor for who in the family. We need to be better prepared if something like this happens again."

Donatello, who had been paying more attention to his laptop than to the show, looked up, eyes wide in alarm. "Oh-oh?" He cleared his throat, his face losing the panicked expression so quickly, Leo almost thought he'd imagined it. "Of course. I'll write up a list, Leo." He cleared his throat again. "Later." His eyes were back on the laptop already.

Leonardo frowned, and he might've let it drop for the moment, if it weren't for the fact that Space Heroes had just taken a commercial break.

"Yeah, but it can't be that complicated, right? I mean, I assume that Splinter is kind of like Dr. Mindstrong- a donor for all of us. But what surprises me is that we can't be donors to each other."

"Heyyyy!" Mikey, who had been reading a comic book in the tire swing, glanced up, suddenly paying attention. "Seriously, I was wondering about that, like, earlier. Thanks for asking, Leo!" With a leap and a few bounds, Michelangelo had joined Donnie on the couch, forcing the other turtle to bend his knees to make room.

Michelangelo gave Donatello a look that would've fit better on a golden retriever wanting to play catch. "So. What's the deal? Is Splinter Dr. Mindstrong, or what?"

Donnie huffed, eyes narrowed at his sometimes obnoxious brother, and turned so that his shell, rather than his side, was to the back of the couch, setting his feet on the ground.

"No." He stared hard at the laptop, but his focus was slipping away as he felt both of his brothers eyes on him, waiting. "Look, I'm tired! And injured, remember? Let's leave this for some other time. Okay?" The last words came out angry, and louder than intended. Donatello could feel his face heating up, and awkwardly attempted to place the laptop on the coffee table, trying his best to avoid jostling his right arm, which was in a sling. Mikey leaned over, taking it from him, and carefully put it on the table.

Donnie stood up, without meeting their eyes. "Sorry."

"Hey, it's cool, bro. You're healing. People get cranky when they're in pain and stuff." Mikey jumped up to follow as Donnie shuffled toward his bedroom without comment. "Hey! Want me to fix you something to eat?"

Donatello paused, his face softening, and turned slightly. "No, I'm- I'm good, Mikey. But thanks."

As Donnie turned back, his peripheral vision caught something out of place. He glanced toward the kitchen entrance, and stiffened as he saw Splinter standing there.

Donnie gave a gentle nod, eyes wary despite his effort to appear calm, and continued to his bedroom. He tried to prevent his mind from running back through the last few minutes, for the purpose of finding, in his visual or auditory memory, some clue to how long Splinter had been listening to the conversation.

He didn't want to obsess over this. He didn't want to think about it all.

* * *

Author's Note: This is part one of a two parter. The other half's written, I just need to edit. If you can take a minute, I really appreciate constructive feedback. Thanks!


	2. A Resolution

Author's Note: Thanks so much for the reviews! I'll definitely be individually responding, but wanted to get this out first. I hope you enjoy!

* * *

**What Makes a Family**

**Part Two**

* * *

"Hey April..."

April could immediately tell from his tone that something was wrong.

"Donnie! What's going on?" It was nearly midnight, and the T-Phone had woken her up. She sat up in bed, ready to get dressed and head out if needed.

He responded quickly, trying to reassure her, as he so often did. "No, no, it's okay. Nothing's...nothing's wrong." A pause. "I guess it's - oh! It's kinda late. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking, April."

His tone was despondent. April's brief flash of anger at his admission that there was supposedly nothing urgent turned quickly to concern.

"Donnie. You should be asleep. You're seriously injured!" She sighed, voice softening. "But, since we're already talking...what's going on?"

"Well, the thing is, I-I-I have this weird question, I mean, sort of a hypothetical scenario. Kind of a, kind of a- a theory, in fact, it's not, you know, based on anything _real_..."

"Donnie." April cut him off, voice firm. She had never heard him this scattered before. "Just breathe. And rela-ax. Okay? I'm listening." She let herself lean back into her pillow.

A sigh came through the line. "April, what if you found out you weren't related to your dad?" There was a pause, as April's eyes went wide. "I mean, you _are_. But, what if, in a hypothetical scenario, you found out you were adopted?"

"Donnie, what is this about?" She sat up again, his words having hit an unconscious panic button in her mind. These days, the topic of her father tended to have that effect. But it was the strange timbre she heard in Donnie's voice that had her sitting back up, reconsidering the need to get dressed.

He just sounded so completely unhappy.

April pressed on when the line remained silent, surprised that she was the one reassuring him for once, and finding that she was eager to fill that role for him. Her voice came soft, and full of warmth. "I'm here for you. And I don't need a what-if scenario. Just, tell me what's going on, okay?"

"It's...complicated."

April smiled gently. "With you, it always is."

Donatello snorted, and April knew she'd cheered him up a little, but the line still remained silent for several seconds before he continued.

"I've been keeping something a secret." There was another long pause. "You know how...how Splinter was my donor."

It was a statement more than a question, and his voice sounded depressed now, causing April to unconsciously grasp the T-Phone tighter. She made herself smile, to keep her own voice light, hiding her worry for him. "Yeah?"

"He kind of noticed. Of _course_. I mean- I mean he asked why."

"Asked why..."

"Why it couldn't be any of the others." There was another sigh, which was probably some kind of record for Donnie. "So...this is where it gets complicated."

April's smile dropped, heart clenching at the pain in his voice. Donnie never had trouble explaining things, even when those things weren't pretty. Yet he'd kept this thing, that had something to do with his family, with their blood, a secret for who knew how long.

April closed her eyes, wishing she were there with him to give him a hug. "Donnie, it's okay. Whatever it is you need to say...it's okay."

_I'm your friend. I'm here for you. _ But that's what she'd tell Irma, maybe, and those words weren't enough. Different words started spilling out, as she tried to comfort him.

"You...you saved my _life_. You found a way to turn my dad back from a mutant bat into a thinking, feeling human being again. Donnie. You...are one of the most caring, amazing people, and, and a few days ago, when you got _shot_..." April had to stop suddenly, as emotion overwhelmed her. She hadn't meant to go there, but the shock from a few days ago was suddenly back; that feeling of horror, as she'd struggled to stop Donnie's collapse to the concrete.

April pressed her lips together until they turned white from the pressure. Then she made herself keep going, because she had _so much more_ to say, but her voice was faltering and only grew weaker as she spoke.

"I don't know why...what I did to deserve having a person like you in my life, but I try to think that _maybe_, if the time came, I could be like you...that I would be w-willing to die for the people who matter, Donnie. B-because you do that, and k-_keep_ doing it, and honestly...I'm not s-sure I'm worth..."

"You are. You _absolutely_ are, April." Her warm, confident Donnie was back, and she knew he didn't doubt his words for an instant, even while assuring her she was worth dying for. And he was _still_ telling her this, even after how close they'd come...

"_I almost got you killed...!_" The words hardly had tone as she choked them out. April put a hand over her mouth, suppressing a violent inhalation as tears ran down her face.

"No...no. I'm fine. I'll be okay. I'm here. Don't cry, April. Please."

"D-Donnie..." She huffed and wiped her runny nose, throat working against her.

"I'll be at 100% in no time at all! You'll see..." He dropped off, surely trying to think of something to say. April shook her head, unable to express why his words didn't make up for that night. She tried to get herself under control again, amazed and embarrassed that she had fallen apart like this, when the goal had been to comfort _him_, to be there for _him_.

That brought the flood to a stop, as righteous anger, self directed, took control.

April clenched the phone to her cheek, her words, rough but under control again, coming out with the intensity of a fervent prayer. "I promise I'm going to work my _butt_ off to be the best kunoichi ever, Donnie. Because this is not okay! You taking a bullet because I couldn't hold my own is _not_ okay. And it's _not_ going to happen again. _I_ will take a bullet for _you_, before I let this happen again."

April sniffled loudly, once, and wiped her nose, the tears finally banished as determination took their place. She swept the palm of her free hand over her cheeks, leaving a gentle burn in their place.

She cleared her throat, and neither spoke for a long moment, as her breathing stabilized. She blew out a long, calming stream of air, and sat up straighter. "So. Anyway. You had something you were trying to tell me. About Splinter."

"Right." Donnie paused. "April..."

"Yep?" She bit her upper lip, focused on his voice, almost comically so, determined that she was going to comfort _him_, and be _his_ listening ear.

"Thanks."

With the touch of that one gentle word, the manic glint left April's eyes, and her entire frame softened. She huffed gently, her lips quirking into a lopsided smile. "I _mean_ what I said."

"I know you do." Donnie finally sounded happy again, almost playful. "But, I don't want you getting shot either..."

April cut him off, jaw firm. "_No one_ is getting shot. They won't even see us, let alone get a chance to shoot."

"Because we'll just be that good." His voice was light.

"Yes, we _will_." April huffed out a gentle laugh. "I'm serious, Donnie."

"I know. I am too." He sounded way too happy to be totally serious, but she let it slide. He wasn't so horribly sad anymore, and that made everything better, brighter, again. And also, this was something they could _do_. They would train, and plan, and prepare...

April was going to have to knock some caution into Mikey's thick skull, but they'd get there. She would make certain.

But right now, she was going to be there for Donnie. "So. Splinter." April let out a long, silent sigh, the stress she'd released over the last few minutes almost tangibly slipping away from her frame. She felt centered, and ready to listen.

"You know what? It doesn't matter." Donnie sounded calm.

April frowned, slightly taken aback. "Are you sure? You called me at midnight, sounding _really_ upset, Don."

There was a brief pause. "We're family. Right? I mean, what is genetic code? The people in your life who are there for you, the people who raise you...that's what counts."

April nodded. "Right." Splinter and the turtles were family, without a doubt.

"So, the thing I was going to tell you? It doesn't matter." She could sense Donnie's smile. "Thanks, April."

She chuckled, still overjoyed that he was feeling better, and happy that she had somehow helped, but she was also, admittedly, vaguely curious. "You're...welcome?"

Donnie chuckled too, then pulled up short, and a pang went through April because she knew it was his shoulder hurting him.

His voice, still happy but slightly more tense, confirmed it. "Hey, I should let you get back to sleep. I woke you up, didn't I?"

April looked at her bedroom window, picturing him perched there, his lanky form taking up the entire sill, his large brown eyes shy, but warm.

Her face melted in to a gentle smile. "Maybe."

"Oh man, I'm sorry A..."

"Donnie, it's okay. If you need to talk, I'm here for you. _Any_ time, I'm here."

"Thanks, April." Her Donnie, in the window, bowed his head slightly, smiling that rare, guileless smile that made him look about ten years old.

April leaned into her T-Phone, and knew that smile really was on his face right now. "Good Night, Donnie." Her brow furrowed slightly. "And get some sleep, you're healing..."

A gentle huff. "I will, I promise. Good Night, April."

After Donatello hung up, April snuggled back into her pillow, getting comfortable again. Then, still holding the T-Phone, she drew both hands to her chest, nestling the phone close to her heart, and fell back asleep.

* * *

Splinter came to sit with Donnie on the couch the next evening, shortly after the others left to patrol. Due to his injury, Donnie wouldn't be joining them again for many weeks.

He had brought the tea set. Donatello honestly couldn't remember a time it had been used outside of Splinter's own room. He watched, uncertain, as Splinter went about preparing the traditional drink.

Even after the talk with April, it was one thing to come to terms with explaining things to his father, and another to actually do it.

"Sensei..."

"Here, Donatello. Drink." Donnie set down the TV remote, the television itself already off, and took the proffered cup carefully in one hand.

They sipped tea for a few minutes, making time for a comfortable, familiar silence to build between them. This was his father, his sensei; the person who had raised him from infancy. The person who had named him, and helped him take his first steps. Splinter knew him in a way no one else did. Donatello had time to think these thoughts, and to appreciate that Splinter had moved the conversation to the living area for him, because of his injury.

When the tiny cups were sitting with the set once more, Splinter spoke again.

"Something has been troubling you, my son. Something about your transfusion." He bowed his head, eyes closing briefly, then looked up, into Donatello's eyes. "I do not wish to pressure you. But if there is anything you wish to say, I am here to listen."

Splinter's gaze, although concerned, held no pressure, reflecting the truth in his words. Donatello knew he'd been nothing but tension and nerves around him for days now. After realizing what incredible stress this secret he'd held onto had caused, when nearly discovered, he couldn't help feel relief at Splinter's reaction.

It was tempting, to tell him that, no, in fact, there wasn't anything he wanted to say. Donnie's hand physically ached for a moment, as he fought back the powerful urge to pick up the television remote, and casually flick on anything at all, to create some kind of distraction. Yet after surely causing Splinter to worry, Donnie knew he owed his sensei an explanation. He reminded himself, firmly, that they were all family, that nothing could change that.

Trying to grasp some of the peace he'd felt last night, after talking with April, Donnie tried to make a start. "When I was...when I was twelve, I got fascinated with genetics. I don't know if you remember..."

Splinter smiled wryly. "Indeed I do. I believe that was when you finally got your lab, and the rest of us could be safe knowing the items in the refrigerator would not cause death if consumed."

Donatello grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, I think Mikey particularly benefited from that..." He cleared his throat, feeling awkward for a moment. There had been a few...incidents.

"I- I didn't have a lot of genetic material to work with, and so...maybe naturally, I focused on us. Remember, that's when I started patching everybody up? I'd get out my little medical kit, the gauze...and well, I kept some samples. I think it took me a few months to get everybody."

Splinter crossed his arms, tucking his hands into his sleeves, his voice warm. "Yes, I do remember. You have always been very meticulous."

Donnie grinned, remembering back for a moment. "You were trickiest, Sensei. I didn't think you'd ever get a cut!"

Splinter chuckled. "And you were so eager to treat my tiny wound! I think I was slicing an apple?"

"Yeah! And you were having raisins on the side, and a little lump of that smelly cheese nobody else would touch..." Donnie dropped off, grin faltering. He knew his memory made others uncomfortable sometimes, and from the brief flicker of uncertainty in Splinter's eyes, he'd given more detail than his sensei could recall.

Splinter picked up the conversation, gently leading. "And so, being curious, you ran some tests."

Donnie nodded. This was it. "Yes, Sensei. I...I found out that...Leo, Raph, and Mikey, they...they're, well, biologically speaking, they're full brothers. And I'm...not. I share DNA with them too...but I'd be more like a first cousin to them. A half brother, at most. And, I also found out that..." Donnie dropped his gaze, staring down at his knees. "I share DNA with you, Sensei. About...about fifty percent, actually."

Donnie's face grew hot. He felt exposed. It felt wrong to share this, after so long. He'd decided, at the age of twelve, that he never would. But here he was, breaking that promise to himself.

He continued, still staring at his knees, trying not to stutter, strangely compelled to give more detail, now that he'd said it out. "When I got the chance to study mutagen, it started to make more sense. You see, y-you must've touched me, before the mutation. But, the others must have come into contact with someone else, probably someone working at the pet store."

Donnie fidgeted nervously, his words picking up more speed. "That would explain a few things, like our builds; you're unusually tall for a Japanese man, and I'm the lankiest of us four...and our eye color, too; I think it's likely they share their human DNA with someone of European descent. So, that's why you and I are donors to each other, while they're donor's for each other. A-actually, I wasn't _totally_ sure, if your blood would take, to be honest, although, don't get me wrong, I was reasonably confident, _very_ confident, in fact. But I _knew_ I didn't stand a chance with them. It's difficult to explain, but our blood itself- Raph's, Leo's, Mikey's, and mine- the structure is almost entirely human. W-we're all a mix between human and turtle, obviously, but the turtle genes display in different ways; actually, in a _sense_ we share similarities to the chimeras that rarely occur in nature, although that's- that term doesn't explain us either, I mean, come _on_, we were exposed to mutagen from Dimension X as infants, of _course_ it doesn't really apply, but for conversation's sake...Um, but anyway, our blood itself wouldn't pass muster as human, per se, but in regard to donor compatibility, the human blood typing system roughly applies, and I would lay _money_ on the fact that the pet store employee who influenced their mutations had type A blood, because Raph, Mikey and Leo are all type A...well, close enough for the categorization to hold merit, anyway...while you and I, for the record, are type B; again, _sort_ of, I mean our blood isn't even fully _human_..."

At this point, Donnie was talking a mile a minute. "Oh! And I misspoke earlier, because when I said I share about _fifty_ percent of your DNA, I meant your _human_ DNA, pre-mutation, so, heh, as weird as it is, n-now that I think about it, that would mean Karai- um, I mean, Miwa - is kind of like a-a half sister to me. Heh, wouldn't that be an interesting conversation; hey Karai, guess what? We're related! Yeah, my skin's green and I have a shell and three fingers, but you're actually in all probability my closest blood relative..."

Donnie knew he was rambling, but it was like his mouth took time to catch up to his brain. With the last comment, he just stopped, jaw slightly slack, breathing a little harder than normal, silently panicking at all the things he'd just, just..._spewed_. His heart was starting to hammer in his chest, the wound in his shoulder throbbing right along with it. And though Donnie knew he should stop, it was like he'd sprung a leak, because words started pouring out again.

"Not that it matters, beyond how it can be applied medically, of course. I mean, Raph, Leo, Mikey; they're my brothers, you're our father, we're a family...April's family now, too. She made me realize that. This is just DNA; it doesn't define us. It shouldn't matter who's biologically related to who, it doesn't change anything. We're all a family."

Donnie stopped again. He was repeating himself. He knew he sounded desperate. And his shoulder was fiery agony at this point, but he couldn't relax to ease it, couldn't lean back, or look up, or do _anything_, except sit there. He knew what he'd said was true, he _knew_ it, but...

"All this time, you've kept this to yourself. Since you were twelve years old..."

Donnie froze, even his breath pausing for a moment. Splinter's tone was soft, but an overwhelming fear suddenly prevented Donnie from raising his eyes, to see what might be there waiting for him.

He forced himself to answer, head bowing guiltily, as if confessing to something. "Yes."

Donnie started when Splinter slid across the couch. His eyes went wide as his sensei gently enfolded him in a hug. Donatello sat, still frozen, shuddering ever so slightly. He was distantly ashamed when a childish sniffle escaped. He was crying, like a little kid, and he wasn't even sure why.

Splinter sighed quietly to himself, as he held Donatello. It hurt his heart, to hear his quiet, contained sobs, brought on by the fear of rejection, the fear of losing the very thing he claimed wasn't effected by his discovery; his family.

Splinter wondered what other secrets he might have hidden away. The most secretive, the most intelligent of his children, he realized now, had become skilled at a very young age at wearing a mask to hide things away.

Yet, in some ways, he was easy to read. His crush on April O'Neil, his fascination with technology, his disgust over Michelangelo's pizza toppings. But Donatello possessed the ability to hide away bigger things, emotional things, to keep them buried deep under...a skill that was very useful to the ninja. He could have excelled at espionage, had he been fully human. But that talent was a dangerous one. Yoshi had seen people destroyed by their inner demons, taking their pain to their graves.

He exhaled a calming breath, and pushed those memories away. His sons were not fully a part of that world, and part of him was thankful for that.

"My child, there is no need to keep secrets from me. I am here, as your Sensei, and father to you all." He gently pulled back, and Donatello, eyes bright with tears, finally met his gaze. "You suffered, keeping this to yourself, my son. Please know that I will never judge you. Know that I love you. I want you to come to me, to share. Especially when you think you have something you must not share, when you think you must protect others from the knowledge, that is when you _must_ share. Do not keep it inside. Promise me, Donatello."

Splinter saw him hesitate. "Share, if not with me, then with someone else. Will you promise me that?"

With that, Donatello relaxed. "Hai, Sensei."

"And you are right, of course." Splinter smiled softly, and waited for Donatello to catch up.

"Oh...oh! Of course." Donnie smiled back.

"What is that song? Your brother sings it sometimes..." Splinter tried to sing a few phrases. "We are fa-mi-ly. I've got all of my sisters with me..."

"Sensei, stop, not you too..."

Splinter chuckled quietly.

* * *

In the end, Donatello gave some mumbo jumbo commentary about the unpredictability of mutagen, and its inherent instability, and handed Leo a simple chart showing who could be a donor to who. Leonardo hardly batted an eye, and went to place it in a drawer in his room along with other things he'd deemed important to keep track of over the years.

April, Donnie could tell, read into the chart more. She was in the lab at the time, listening as he had rattled off the explanation to Leo. After their talk the other night, the knowing look in April's eyes was hardly surprising. Also, she knew more about genetics than his brothers, who, thankfully, had absolutely no interest in the subject.

If April had drawn the right conclusion, though, she didn't share it with him. Instead, she had found a new focus.

"Listen, guys, this is perfectly reasonable! People wear clothing. Armor is..is kind of like clothing! I mean, you walk around with your arms and legs and everything _totally_ exposed." She crossed her arms. "I'm embarrassed, actually!"

Raph raised an eyebrow at that, from over by the punching bag.

April's cheeks colored slightly. "Okay, no, I'm not _really_...just forget I said that. But you guys can wear pants...Kevlar pants! You'll get used to it, trust me. And some kind of upper body protection! It just makes _sense_. Hey, you'd like to wear a cape, right Mikey? Donnie! You're on board, right? Let's make you guys armored clothing!"

~End~

* * *

Author's Note: Well, that's that! This story began as a means to write out this theory. As a result, I think I could've fleshed things out more, but it ultimately served its original purpose of sharing my thoughts, and also allowed me to try my hand at writing these characters. There's so much there; each personality is distinctly formed, and that's something most fandoms just don't have to this extent. It's a wonderful thing, but kind of...daunting, as well? Anyway, I hope I did them justice! (As with the prior chapter, constructive criticism is welcomed!)

On a separate note, a big part of me _really_ doesn't like the idea of only one turtle being related to Splinter, etc, because I think one of the biggest strengths of TMNT is their bond as brothers, and their genes can just go hang themselves. But, at least in the newest series, their character designs seem to lend themselves toward this idea. For me, anyway. Ahaha. Plus, the thought of Donnie explaining to Karai that they are biologically half siblings just really makes me laugh.

One last random thing: I think telling his brothers would be the most difficult for Donnie. As a twelve year old, that's what truly held him back; the fear of isolation from them. Splinter, I'm thinking, would be wise enough to realize that.


End file.
